by Sarah Curtis
She heard an exasperated sigh. “No. I can’t get away. Matt will be out of town for a wedding, and with what’s been going on here lately, I don’t trust this place with anyone else. Why? Are you going?”
“Wait. What do you mean by what’s been going on? Has something happened?”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll tell you about it later. Right now I want to know if you’re going to the championship game.”
She started walking as she talked. “Colt called and asked if I would.”
“You talked to him?” Her voice went up an octave, but Ivy couldn’t tell if it was from surprise or concern.
“He left a voicemail. I haven’t called him back yet.”
“Do you want to go?”
“My first thought was no, but then after listening to his message four times—”
“Wait, you listened to it four times?”
It was Ivy’s turn to sigh. “I missed the sound of his voice.”
“Oh, hon, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea you go. It’s still too soon.”
“He’s never asked me for anything. There has to be a reason he’s asking now.”
“What did he say in the message?”
“Just that he wanted me there. He didn’t say why. Besides, I probably won’t even see him.”
“You know that’s a lie.”
“It’s not. You know how crazy the stadium gets after a game, and the players are always the last to leave. I’ll get on a plane, go to the game, then hop the next flight back.”
“I don’t think it’s as simple as that.”
“So, I shouldn’t go?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“So, you think I should.”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“That’s remarkably helpful,” she deadpanned.
Emerson chuckled. “Take the night to think about it. Then call him back with your decision.”
“No. I’m going to call now and tell him I can’t go. Nothing has changed. It’s not like he asked to get back together. Going would be stupid.”
“I agree.”
“Good. I’ll call you later.”
Ivy hung up with Emerson and dialed Colt. It didn’t even finish ringing one time before he answered. “Ivy.” Was there a wistful quality to his voice or was that her imagination? “Thanks for calling me back. I wasn’t sure if you would.”
Too late, she realized she shouldn’t have. Pressing the phone tighter to her ear, instead of telling him that she unequivocally couldn’t go to the championship game, she found herself asking, “How have you been?”
“Better now that I’m talking to you. I’ve been wanting to call for a few days now to invite you to the game—”
“About that—”
“I know I promised I wouldn’t call until you were ready, but like I said in my message, I’d really like it if you would go.”
“Colt,” she started to interject, but he must not have heard her because he kept speaking.
“Win or lose, it just wouldn’t be the same without you there.”
Well, poodoo. “Colt…”
“Yeah?” And now was that a hint of expectancy in his tone?
“I’ll go.”
A sigh filled her ear. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’ll text you all the information.”
“Great. Well, I’ve got to run.”
“Ivy?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
Reaching her apartment, she pulled her keys from her bag but didn’t unlock the door. Instead, she sank to sit on the ground, leaning her back against it. She stared at her phone, took a deep breath and redialed Emerson.
“Well?” she asked by way of answering.
“I accidentally agreed to go.”
“Whaaat?” Ivy cringed as Emerson yelled in her ear. “How?”
Ivy pulled at a string on her jeans. “I don’t know. One minute I was set to tell him I couldn’t go and then I just couldn’t do it. Do you think I made a mistake?”
There was a moment of silence before Emerson said, “What does your heart tell you?”
“The season’s almost over.”
She didn’t have to explain what she meant by that for Emerson to get it. “But another one will be starting. You can’t go down that road again.”
“I know. And I won’t. I can’t.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t go. If you do see him, you might be tempted to—”
Ivy cut her off. “I’d tell him great game and be on my way.”
“I wish I could go with you.”
“So do I. But I think this is something I need to do. For closure.”
“Then all I have left to say is, be sure to pack some sunscreen because even in January I’m pretty sure it’s fucking hot in Arizona.”
Even as neurotic as Ivy was about being behind schedule and allowing herself time for all contingencies, she was running late for her flight. Murphy’s law was in full effect and true to form. Everything was going wrong and taking longer than it should.
The volume on her alarm had accidentally been turned down, so she had woken up late.
The strap of her purse broke and as she only ever used one at a time, she’d wasted precious minutes unearthing an old one from the depths of her closet. Then had used more minutes, ones she didn’t have, transferring everything.
There’d been an accident on the Broadway Bridge, backing traffic up for over a mile.
An incident in line at security had everyone tapping their toes and checking their watches.
Purse smacking her in the ass, flip flops flapping, she raced through the terminal. She could not miss her flight. The championship game was not only important to Colt but to her, too. She wanted nothing more than to see him win. So much was riding on it.
Winning was his ticket to the Super Bowl.
The one thing that meant more to him than anything else in the world.
And even though they were no longer together, Ivy still wanted that for him. Badly. She wanted to see him happy.
She had a stitch in her side and was breathing too heavily to speak as she hit the check-in counter. Wordlessly, she slid her ID to the worker manning it.
Fifteen frustratingly nerve-wracking minutes later, boarding pass in hand, she headed for her flight.
Chapter Twenty-two
Colt
“Hey, Colt, you better come look at this.”
He went into the visiting player’s lounge where most of the team was hanging out until game time and focused on the TV that was playing the news in the corner of the room.
“… Once again. C2C airways flight 289 from Portland has crashed upon landing at Phoenix International. Not much is known at this time, but it is believed that—”
A buzz filled Colt’s head and his heart rate sped, pounding in his ears and drowning out the news anchor’s next words.
No. No.
No.
Linc and Oz came over, standing on either side of him, and he dimly felt a hand land on his shoulder. “Ivy was due in about now, wasn’t she?”
Colt wasn’t sure who’d said that.
He clumsily pulled his phone out of his back pocket and brought up the text he had sent Ivy with her flight information. She was on flight 289. “What was that flight number?” But he already knew.
“289.”
289.
289.
The number echoed through his head.
“I’ve gotta go.”
A hand grabbed his arm. “You can’t leave now. The game starts in less than three hours.”
Yanking his arm free, he snarled at Cooper, one of the assistant coaches. “I don’t give a fuck. Ivy is on that plane.”
“Damn it, Colt!”
The dude made another grab for him but Linc stepped between them running interference. He looked Colt in the eye. “Go. I’ve got this.”
Colt gave him a chin lift, then pushed through bodies out the door.
Picking up
speed once out of the locker room, Colt booked it down the corridors as fast as his legs would carry him, frantically searching for the exit. His brain was a jumble of flashing images of Ivy—a phantasmagoria of the months they’d spent together—all to the soundtrack of her laughter.
He remembered the first time he saw her, holding that damn camera. God, he’d been so pissed. Who would have known that petite, fierce beauty would turn out to be the woman he loved.
Loved?
The realization had him missing a step. Momentum and sheer willpower righted his balance, and he pushed himself to his very limits to run even faster.
Fuck.
He was so fucking stupid.
How could he have not seen how important Ivy was? She was his whole fucking world and if he lost… No, he wouldn’t let himself finish the thought. She’d be okay.
She had to be.
Running high on adrenaline, anxiety, and his full out sprint, he sucked in air as he reached the stadium entrance and scanned his surroundings. He saw a few cabs lining the curb. Thank fuck because, in his mad dash, he hadn’t thought transportation through. It would’ve been agony to have to make a phone call and wait for someone to arrive.
He threw himself into the back of a cab. “How fast can you get me to Phoenix International?”
The cabbie looked at him through his rearview mirror, his eyes widening in recognition. “Twenty minutes.”
“There’s a thousand bucks in it for you if you can get me there in fifteen.”
Not wasting time, the guy put the car into gear and took off.
Colt used the time to pull the news up on his phone. There were still no reports of injuries or deaths, but he was able to learn the crash occurred when the front landing gear malfunctioned, causing the plane to land on its nose, sliding over two-thousand feet before coming to a fiery stop.
The imagery would forever be etched in Colt’s brain.
“Where am I heading, Mr. Colton?”
Colt pulled his nose from his phone. “C2C terminal.”
The cabbie took the next exit ramp and navigated the twists and turns of the airport’s convoluted road construction like a pro NASCAR driver and even managed to hold a conversation. “Heard about the crash on the news. You know someone on board?”
“Yeah.” Colt’s eyes were aimed out the side window. Emergency vehicles, creating a sea of flashing lights, could be seen in the distance.
“I hope they’re safe.”
Traffic was backed up in front of the terminal entrance. Not wanting to wait, Colt tossed the cabbie his credit card, telling him to add the tip, and high-tailed it out of the taxi, running full speed to reach the parting glass doors. He stopped in the entrance only long enough to find Ivy’s gate number.
Security was tight, and for once, Colt was happy for his fame. And he exploited that shit, getting into the terminal with record speed. The place was a madhouse of spectators and hysterical family members there to greet their loved ones, never thinking they’d be facing such a tragedy.
The wreckage couldn’t be seen from the large-paned windows, but the view was still scary as fuck—flashing emergency lights barely seen through a wall of dense smoke. It brought home the reality of the situation far greater than any news story. Enough so, Colt’s stomach rolled, and he fought the urge to be sick. It was one of the two times in his life he’d felt completely helpless, where all he could do was stand there deep breathing through his panic and wait for news like everyone else.
Time stretched as he stared out that window, looking at everything and nothing. Ivy was outside that glass, possibly hurt, possibly dying, and he could do nothing. Fists clenched, barely breathing, he berated himself for the millionth time. He’d been so stuck in his damn head, working so hard to honor a ghost, he’d forgotten what it felt like to live.
But no more. If by some miracle he was given a second chance with Ivy, he wasn’t going to squander it.
Colt?
At first, he thought it was his imagination, something he conjured in his mind because he was wishing for it so badly.
“Colt!”
Ivy’s voice.
Craning his neck, he looked above the crowd. And there she was, jogging toward him.
His heart skipped a beat and then started pounding. Relief left him lightheaded, and his world tilted for an instant as he took his first step toward her.
Time seemed to move in slow motion, but then in a blink, he was taking her into his arms, clutching at her tighter when he realized his whole body was shaking. Her arms gripped at him, holding him together, giving him his life back.
He never wanted to let her go.
He buried his face in her hair, feeling wetness smear across his cheek as he breathed in her scent. “I thought I lost you.” His words were as thick as the throat they struggled to come from. He swallowed down the lump as more moisture managed to squeeze past his tightly sealed lids.
They clung together until he got his emotions under control. Then, needing to see she wasn’t hurt, he took a small step back but still held on to her upper arms. He couldn’t bear to part from her.
He scanned her for injury, stopping once he reached her face. There, he cataloged every exquisite feature down to the tiny beauty mark below her right eye, promising himself he would never forget this moment.
He pulled his eyes from her beautiful grays and looked around. No one else in the terminal had loved ones they clung to. Unbelieving, he asked, “How are you here?”
“I missed my flight.”
If someone had told him half an hour ago—hell, five minutes ago—that he’d be smiling right then, he’d have called them a fucking liar. But that’s exactly what he found happening as his lips tipped into one. “I know you hate being late, but for once, can I just say how fucking happy I am that you were.”
“I was panicking, thinking I was going to miss the game, but luckily they were able to get me on a flight that left only thirty minutes later. I didn’t hear the news about the accident until I landed.” She looked around at the grieving crowd. “It’s all so surreal. I almost feel guilty for being safe and sound when so many people may be hurt.”
“Well, I sure as fuck don’t and you shouldn’t either. No one filled your empty seat.”
She nodded. “I guess that’s true.”
He shook his head. “I still can’t believe you’re standing here. When I saw the news…” His voice broke, but it didn’t matter, he didn’t have the words to finish his thought.
Ivy filled his gap. “I knew you’d be worried. I tried to call, but you didn’t answer.”
He removed one hand from her long enough to pull his phone from his back pocket. Sure enough, he had one missed call. He wasn’t sure how he hadn’t heard it.
“I called Oz next, and he said you were on your way here. So, I went looking for you.”
Removing his hands from her arms, he cupped her face, running his thumbs over the silky-smooth skin of her jaw. He stared into her eyes, and with all the emotion he was feeling, said what he should have said so many weeks ago but was too stupid to realize until it was almost too late. “I love you, Ivy.”
Her eyes widened. “You love me?” At his nod, she said, “I never thought I’d hear you say that.”
Something tightened in his chest. “I’m so damn sorry it took until now. I was almost too late. But never again. I’m going to tell you I love you every day for the rest of my life.” He would never again take Ivy for granted.
“That sounds like a commitment.”
“If you’ll have me, I’ll dedicate my life to you.”
“What about football?”
“Fuck football. After this, it just doesn’t seem that important anymore. And it sure as fuck doesn’t come before you.”
Ivy pulled out her phone, looking down at the screen. “No, there’s still time for you to make the game. I won’t have you throw the whole season away.”
Shaking his head, he pulled her to his chest. “No, you
don’t get it, you’re the only thing that matters.”
She pushed at his chest. She wasn’t strong enough to break his hold, but he loosened his grip, giving her room to back up. “I do get it. You were scared. Worried. But I’m okay, and now you need to go play your game. You need to win tonight.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.”
“You can and you will. Do it for me. Come on. If we hurry you can still make it.”
She took his hand and pulled him toward the exit. His steps were hesitant at first, but he followed. He wasn’t sure how he could keep his mind focused enough to play, but if she wanted him to win, he’d do it for her. He’d do anything in his power to make her happy.
“Mr. Colton! Mr. Colton!”
Colt heard his name called and saw the cabby flagging him with a wave. He pulled Ivy in that direction.
“You left your credit card. I waited. Is this your girl? She’s okay?”
Colt pulled Ivy close. “She’s more than okay, she’s perfect.”
Ivy
“You’re quiet,” Colt said from behind the wheel.
They were on their way home in a rental that Colt had picked up at the airport, saying he couldn’t stomach the thought of either of them flying. She didn’t know the rules for team travel, but if traveling alone were against them, she assumed his coach had made an exception considering the situation.
And speaking of coaches, Ivy wasn’t sure how upset or pissed he had been by Colt’s disappearance, but Colt had assured her everything was fine. Of course, that could be because the Phantoms had won by twenty-one points. They were officially going to the Super Bowl.
Colt made a grab for her hand, but she pulled it out of his reach.
He glanced at her before putting his eyes back on the road. “Should we address the elephant in the car?”
She didn’t want to, it had been a long day full of emotional highs and lows and what she really wanted to do was stare out the window and wallow. But she supposed the tension between them wouldn’t dissipate until they hashed things out. And as they were only an hour into their twenty-hour road trip, the tension could grow mighty thick, indeed.
The seatbelt stretched across her chest as she angled toward him. She supposed she should start. “You know we’re not back together, right? Just because you confess your love in an intense moment doesn’t mean everything between us is magically better.”